It couldn't just be simple
by scottolicious
Summary: MoD!Harry; Time-travel fic! Harry has lived out his life unaware of his mastership over the hallows. So when Harry finally passes on he's as surprised as anyone (and quite annoyed) to find he's not allowed to move on. Instead, Death takes him back to his own past - who knows what will happen? Rated T for swearing, may increase but I'll try to keep profanity down


Hello :) So I've just gone onto uni holidays and have found myself quite bored recently. So I thought I'd make a very cliche story about Harry being Master of Death and going back in time stuff. This chapter has a bit of swearing in it but (if I continue) I'll try and avoid that in the future. This may just be the only chapter I write depends on how bored I get and if people like it or not haha - I haven't creatively written in quite a while and it's about 3 am here so sorry if there are mistakes! Anyway enjoy!

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**Chapter One - Of course bloody not **

Dying is not optional. At the end of one's time - or purely by chance - life will falter and end. This is true of every creature that can be counted among the living. So, when a wizard named Harry Potter laid claim to the immortal instruments of death and lost the ability to fully accept death some would argue that he left the realm of the living. However, despite his mastership over what the wizarding world has come to call the deathly hallows Harry did continue to age. He created an extensive family with his beautiful wife Ginny Weasley and maintained contact with his closest friends Ron and Hermione Weasley. It was not a surprise for him then when he reached the ripe old age of 136 that he lay on his deathbed enjoying his last moments inhabiting the world. Or so he thought - for when the clock struck midnight on the 31st of October and the world came to mourn the great Harry Potter, defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and head of the Auror Office until his late retirement, Harry instead woke up in a place he had visited in his life only once before: the way-point between life and death that strangely resembled King's Cross Station. "I suppose that I shan't be catching a train back to life this time eh?" Harry mumbled to himself readying himself already to become part of the life's 'next great adventure'.

"Well," a voice echoed around the cavernous room, "I suppose that that is a matter not entirely up to you." Harry startled but long service as an auror allowed him to remain mostly calm and collected, reaching instead for a wand that wasn't there. He was not surprised to find himself again naked. Instead he replied in no particular direction,

"I suppose not, but I would hazard a person has a limit to how many times they can survive the impossible. I suspect I've surpassed most others in that regard."

"Indeed, your ability to survive is well known. Some would say you're simply too stubborn to just drop dead like most mortals, I however know different," the voice stated and Harry detected a faint hint of smugness to the tone.

"Yes well, could you perhaps show yourself? Talking to walls makes me wonder if I've lost it in my old age. I don't suppose you're Dumbledore?"

"No… no, Dumbledore has long moved on."

"Oh. Well perhaps I should be following him then? I am dead, after all."

"Hm. So eager to go? Does my conversation not please you?"

"No offense but I'm a bit eager to see some people. I'm not even sure who you are?" Harry finished with a questioning lilt, hoping to finally get an explanation as to his current situation.

"Yes, how very rude of me." As the words reverberated around the area they seemed to coalesce into a single spot a metre in front of Harry and human silhouette began to form, roughly resembling a male. Slowly the features on the silhouette began to sharpen and after what felt simultaneously like an eon and no time at all a man not too much taller than Harry with rough blond hair and cold blue eyes stood facing him. "Allow me to indulge a cliche and introduce myself - I, Harry Potter, am Death personified. At your most humble of service." The expression on Death's face didn't shift much but a slight twitch of its lips resembled the slightest of smirks.

"Oh, well that's… grand? I suppose you've come to judge me? Heaven or Hell and whatnot?" Harry asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"Oh, no Mr Potter. If that were the case you would well and truly qualify for Heaven. I am here on other business, however. You see, if you care to remember, before your defeat of Tom Riddle you were… lucky enough to obtain three items. Three very powerful items which allow -"

"Yes, yes, allow one to become the Master of Death and all that rot. That's lovely and all but I never really obtained them all did I? They fell into my possession at random points but I've only really kept the third Hallow," Harry interrupted.

"Indeed. The Hallow of invisibility. Very wise of you - destroying the other two that is. Also very futile. You see, you are unfortunately thinking of the items in a very physical sense - something I've found quite common in mortals, though more so in muggles - but they have a much greater presence than that."

"Listen, this is all well and good but I'd really just like -" Harry began, only to be interrupted by Death.

"Yes," he continued, talking slightly louder to cover the attempted interruption, "they also manifest themselves in a more metaphysical sense, Mr Potter. So you see, when you mastered each item, regardless of its physical status or position, it became bonded to your very being - your very soul."

"Well, isn't that lovely," Harry drawled, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, it rather is. For you see this has allowed you to become the first ever true and rightful Master of Death." Death finished with a dramatic flourish. It was quite clear from the annoyed expression creeping onto Harry's face that he was quite sick of Death's little monologue.

"Okay! Alright! Great even! I'm Master of Death - now can we please move onto the part where you do your bloody job and take me to the afterlife or whatever it bloody is that happens after death?"

"Oh, perhaps I wasn't clear?" Death responded, an amused tone tinging his words.

"Clear? I can assure I've had to stand here listening to you rant for long-bloody-enough and your words are all very clear. I understand! I get it! I had the Hallows and they bonded to me - see, quite clear? Now, can we _please _-"

"No, no. I clearly was not clear. It's clear to me now actually just how unclear I was being. Very, very unclear. What's the opposite to clear?"

"..."

"Ambiguous? Vague? Obscure? Opaque?"

"What are you even talking about anymore?"

"You see, now you're getting confused because of how unclear I was."

"Can I leave? Would that be rude?" Harry murmured to himself, looking on the verge of pulling his hair out.

"Leave? Oh yes, so you do understand!" Exclaimed Death, excitedly gesturing towards Harry.

"Uh - yeah, you know, get out of here. Go to the afterlife?"

"Oh, no sorry," Death replied adopting an expression of extreme remorse and continuing in a tone that conveyed the utmost sincerity, "you see, as Master of Death I simply cannot let you die. Not allowed. Nope. Against the rules - written in blood you might say." Death's words echoed around the room for a moment but eventually everything fell silent. Harry's expression melted into a neutral facade.

"Oh."

It didn't last long - soon Harry's shouting was reverberating around the room. "And why the bloody fuck can't I move on? Who's fucking rules are you following? I am not going to stand while you continue to bullshit about me being your master and denying my right, my bloody _right_, to finally fucking die! I lived a good, long life! _Lived _being a key word there! As in it's over! Gone! I. Fucking. Died. So let me move on!" Eventually the room lapsed again into silence, Harry puffing slightly from his shouting and Death staring at him with a sort of fond amusement.

"Well as admirable as that little rant was, I am _literally _unable to make you move on. Just as up is up and down is down, I cannot reap my master."

"Well then what the bloody fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Oh, I thought you'd never ask. Enjoy Mr Potter and do try to keep a cooler head in the future - a man your age should try to keep his blood pressure down you know, wouldn't want to go into cardiac arrest and die now would we?" Death's laughter filled the room and slowly faded away to replaced by the sound of a screeching train and Harry's world faded to black.

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Hope you enjoyed it! If you think Harry got a bit too angry/frustrated too quickly I'm sorry. I just figured that he was sort of really looking forward to moving on and didn't want to be held up. Plus I didn't want to drag this chapter out too much (I think I did a bit much already haha). Anyway, feel free to comment criticisms (Harry way out of character, writing mistakes/flaws, whatever!).


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